


Rescued

by nerdyketones



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien!Keith, Galra!Keith, Happy Ending, Implied Violence, Latino!Lance, Minor Keith/Lance (Voltron), Pre-Relationship, Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7485045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyketones/pseuds/nerdyketones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After falling through the destabilized wormhole, Lance is taken prisoner by the Galra. When he is rescued, it's not by who he thinks...</p><p>Or Lance finds out the hard way that Keith is part alien.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescued

Lance wasn’t sure how long he’d been a prisoner.

His memories were fuzzy after falling through the wormhole with the others, but he knew above all that when he’d been picked up by Galra forces that he’d hidden his lion on a different planet, and had been traveling by pod instead.

The happy thought that Blue was safe was all that kept him going. Every interrogation involved questions asking where the others were, where Blue was, and what their plan had been, but Lance could hold out, no matter how much pain he was in, if Blue was safe. As long as he had Blue, he could picture escaping, getting back to Blue, and finding the others.

It was freezing in his cell. They’d taken his armor a long time ago, and given him one of those jumpsuits Shiro had been wearing when he’d crash landed on Earth. The material was thin, and Lance wasn’t exactly packing on the pounds. If anything, he'd lost muscle and weight.

He lay on the floor of his cell, shivering, counting in time to the sound of the guards pacing the hallway. When new boots approached, he closed his eyes, swearing in his head. It wasn’t ‘Torture Time’ yet, so this was unexpected and not routine. Anything deviating from the norm was scary.

“Prisoner 6204 approved for transport.” The new Galra officer said flatly, and Lance felt his spirits sink. If he was being moved, where was he going? What if Voltron tried to rescue him only to find that he’d been moved? Was he being sent to see Zarkon? His stomach did backflips at the thought.

The cell door opened. He put up a brief fight as he was forced onto his front, but it was mainly because he couldn’t help but still show some resistance. The others wouldn’t give up or roll over, so neither would he. Manacles affixed his wrists tightly together at the small of his back, and then to his waist. His ankles were chained, and then affixed to his waist also. Finally, much to his utter hatred, some kind of mouthguard-muzzle-thing was forced on him, buckled tight behind his head. “It never shuts up. This isn’t standard procedure, but you’ll thank me later,” the regular guard was saying, and Lance snarled, trying to kick. The mouthguard part of the muzzle tasted awful, but he couldn’t spit it out.

“I’ll find another reason to punch it. Thanks,” The new guard said, and then Lance was thrown roughly over an armored shoulder. He kicked and thrashed, but the guard just slapped the back of his head, making Lance see stars, and told him to shut up. It made his blood boil, but he acquiesced for a moment, too tired to keep fighting all the time. If Shiro were there, he'd tell him to save his strength.

“6204?” A new voice asked as the guard carrying him came to a stop. If Lance glanced right and left, he could see that they were at some kind of hangar. A pod was open a few feet away, and his stomach clenched at the thought of going in it and being sent to an entirely new and terrifying place.

“Unfortunately.” His captor said, and the two guards chuckled a bit. _Yeah, laugh it up,_ Lance thought darkly, straining against the metal around his wrists. His shoulders were aching from being held so unyieldingly close together, but he could picture getting his bayard and kicking both of their asses.  “Thankfully Majuri muzzled it.” the guard carrying him said, tightening said muzzle just to prove his point. Lance grunted furiously, squirming.

“Lucky you. All the affects are in order. May Zarkon find you pleasing, Dragli.” The other guard said, saluting.

“You as well." 'Dragli' thanked the other guard, taking some kind of key to the pod. Lance let out a panicked, muffled shout, struggling until his muscles burned.  Was that just a standard farewell, or was he being taken to Zarkon?! " _Shut it.”_ Dragli hissed, hitting Lance hard in the head. Mind spinning, Lance kept kicking, but weakly. His heart had flown up into this throat, choking him, and he'd broken out into a cold sweat. 

The guard entered the pod, and strapped Lance down to some kind of chair, slapping him in the face when Lance managed to kick him hard in the leg. Lance bit his tongue around the mouthguard to keep from crying as he was restrained to a point where he couldn’t move an inch, the pilot firing up the pod. This was it; he was being taken to Zarkon. He was probably going to die.

He thought of his family, his mom, his _team._ Coran, Shiro, Hunk, Keith, Pidge. _Allura._ He was willing to look pathetic in front of the guard now; he cried a little anyway, tears flowing hot and fast from his eyes. He’d let them all down, and now he’d never see them again.

He barely listened to the guard talking to the comm tower, getting permission to take off. As the pod sailed into space, he closed his eyes and pictured Earth.

After about fifteen minutes of picturing the ocean, his family, his  _life_ , he heard the guard get up. Lance didn’t even bother to glare or open his eyes; he’d officially given in. Keith would be pissed at him, as would Shiro, but there was nothing Lance could do. He couldn’t see a way out like Pidge probably could have, and he wasn’t strong like Hunk.  Something was closed around the chair, which made him tense, but he refused to play into the guard’s game. When he heard a loud hiss and then he was suddenly _floating,_ he gritted his teeth into the muzzle and prepared for the worst.

...Nothing happened. With another hiss a few minutes later, he stopped floating. The pilot was punching controls, working hastily, but Lance didn’t care. Apparently more torture was off the menu, and that’s all he was going to concern himse-

“ _Lance._ Lance, are you alright?”

Lance’s eyes snapped open. At first, he thought for sure he was dead or delirious.

He was in the _red lion._ It was flying at intense speeds, and the Galra guard was piloting it, but he thought for sure he’d heard Keith. The voice had _sounded_ like Keith, anyway.

 

 _Wait_.

 

The guard! Had Keith managed to disguise himself as a Galra and rescue him singlehandedly? Lance grunted, struggling, and froze when the guard turned to look at him, taking off it's helmet. No costume or disguise could be that good; a Galra was definitely looking at him like that. He could see a mullet, and a worried expression, but the Galra piloting Red could _not_ be Keith. Keith was a human being!  Lance snarled, confused and scared and _pissed._ If a Galra was piloting Red, where was Keith?  Lance strained to see around the cockpit, sure he was going to find Keith lying on the ground, unconscious or captured.

All he saw, stored safely away, was Keith’s red armor.

“I--Lance, I know you’re confused. And pissed. I know you don’t trust me.” The Galra was saying, sounding _just_ like a frustrated and upset Keith. “But I need you to tell me if you’re hurt.”

Lance shook his head, either in denial to cooperate or in truth that he wasn’t injured. He wasn’t sure which it was. His heart was pounding painfully in his throat. It was horrible, but the idea that something may have happened to Keith was a small mercy; it gave him something to focus on. Lance had given up on himself, but he'd never give up on Keith. 

“Then I’m not stopping yet. The more distance I put between us and the Galra the better.” The Keith-Imposter said determinedly, and Red roared in agreement. “I know you’re uncomfortable like that, but just hang on. I’m not losing you again.”

Lance stewed that over, more confused and mad than ever. If this Galra really was Keith, _his_ Keith…

He didn’t know what to think. If Red was allowing this alien Keith to fly it then his ‘savior’ couldn’t be all that bad...right? But then again, the Keith-Imposter had _hit_ him and slapped him hard enough to make his ears ring. Was that for show? Was he truly safe, or was he just being held for more bounty? Had Lance just had a psychotic break from the stress and the torture?

After about half an hour, Keith-Imposter navigated Red to orbit amongst the dense gasses of a large planet, masking them from view. They swirled red and orange around the cockpit, obscuring views of anything else and making the small space glow a bit from the light of the controls. Keith-Imposter got up and approached Lance cautiously. When he got a little too close, Lance growled, squirming.

“Lance, I’m going to get that muzzle off of you, okay? That’s it.” Keith-Imposter said in a surprisingly sincere way before approaching. Lance still struggled and squirmed as fuzzy purple fingers touched his chin, his jaw, but Keith-Imposter didn’t stop.

“ _¿Qué coño?”_ Lance coughed as soon as the muzzle was off. “Where is Keith? What the _fuck_ did you do with Keith, _hijo de puta?!”_ He practically yelled it, struggling fiercely. If Keith-Imposter had hurt him...

“I--shit.” Keith-Imposter rubbed its face, looking even more upset. “Lance, I _am_ Keith. It’s me.”

“¡Cállete! You aren’t Keith. Keith isn’t an _alien.”_ Lance hissed, trying to kick out in his frustration. “What did you do to him, carajo? _Let him go!”_

“I’ll prove to you that I’m Keith.” Keith-Imposter looked determined now, if not a little sad. “When we were on Arus and we invited the Arusian’s into the castle, you said we needed a team-chant.” Keith-Imposter said, running a hand through his hair. “Something stupid like...when I say vol, you say voltron?”

Lance stopped trying to kick free, eyes widening. Holy _quiznak._ The Galra before him really was Keith! How else would he know that story, want to save Lance, and be able to pilot Red?

“It’s ‘When I say vol, you say _tron’_ , you idiot.” Lance said weakly, and Keith seemed to fully relax, a daringly hopeful expression in his now yellow eyes. “Keith...what happened to you?” Lance asked, and the expression slid right off, replaced with a surprisingly vulnerable and... _afraid_ look. Lance had never seen Keith look like that, not ever.

“I don’t know.” Keith actually sounded _shaken._ “We got separated in the wormhole and I crashed on some weird planet. I got exposed to something and, well…” He tugged almost viciously on one of his fluffy ears. “Apparently I’m half alien.” His tone was clipped and defensive, a sign that Keith was freaking out.

Silence fell for a moment.

“You’re still the idiot who is my arch-rival.” Lance said finally. He still trusted and believed in the Keith that helped form Voltron and worked tirelessly to defend the universe. If that Keith just so happened to be half alien, then who was Lance to judge?

“You can’t be serious.” Keith snapped, sounding even more upset. “ _I’m half Galra!”_

“Yeah. I noticed.” Lance huffed, squirming a little. “You’re also the Red Paladin, a loser, and my friend.”

“ _Fuck,”_ Keith sounded choked up as he sank to the floor, burying his face in his knees.

“Keith, come on. I’m only going to judge you for your stupid cropped jacket and your ugly mullet, not for this.” Lance said tiredly. Now that the shock and adrenaline was wearing off, he was still in rough shape from his time as a prisoner. He shivered against the chains, exhausted.

“Shit. Sorry,” Keith got up, not looking Lance in the eye as he started working the straps and restraints off one by one. “Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?” He asked quietly as he worked off the manacles, the last restraint.

“I’m sore. And tired.” Lance mumbled, rubbing his wrists and then his face. “You saved my life, Keith,” He stood up on shaky legs and hugged Keith as tight as his weak arms could manage. Keith flinched at first, but then hugged Lance back, lifting him off the floor a bit until he was slightly breathless, but the contact and the heat felt _safe._ Keith might not look like the Keith Lance knew anymore, but this was still his friend. He still smelled like Keith.

“I, uh, have rations for you. And your jumpsuit and armor.” Keith said awkwardly as they pulled apart.

“Thanks,” Lance said blearily, curling up on the floor instead. “M’tired.”

“Your core is too cold.” Keith said after a moment and some telepathy with Red. Keith shucked off the Galra armor, revealing his Voltron jumpsuit underneath. He then gingerly laid down on the floor next to Lance, coughing awkwardly when the blue paladin drew closer to him.

“You’re _warm,”_ Lance slurred, wrapping every appendage possible around his friend, relishing the heat and the feeling of security that came with it. The purple fuzzy skin that had made Lance so upset before was surprisingly comfortable against his skin, his cheek. Keith shifted a little when Lance buried his face into the crook of Keith’s neck and shoulder, but he didn't object.

“Get some rest, Lance.” Keith managed, relief starting to seep through him. Lance, somehow, had accepted him, even like...like this. He’d managed to save Lance. No matter how crazy things got, he had Lance, and that was all that mattered. “Get some rest,” He repeated softly, running his fingers through Lance’s hair.

 

Lance just held Keith tighter, drifting off to sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> -written at 3 am while tripping on pain medication from surgery  
> -first Voltron work and it's klance goodies  
> -help


End file.
